Jailbreak
by MeaGlorifiedPigeon
Summary: Roy's had powers now for a year. Unfortunately, for most of this year he's been at theCenter, a facility that PresidentLuthor set up so that normal people didn't have to fear metas. But a mysterious -or not- agent in training has put an end to that life, and now he and two other metahuman teens are on the run with a tween-aged spy. (AU where everyone's a meta) (Rated for language)
1. The Center

_**Author's Note:**_ _ **This is a story observing a dystopian world and how the characters can factor into it. That's why I used the term AU. Please just try to enjoy it, and don't burn out your brain cells trying to lecture me on good and evil, please. If you would prefer something that explores the intricacies of such a spectrum, you don't have to read this or anything else I might write in the future.**_

"So how long have you had powers?" Wally asked, following Roy down the hall to the yard. Roy clenched his fists, the fingertips still red from the earlier blast he'd set off.

"A year. They picked me up ten months ago." Roy explained.

Wally nodded carefully. "I've been here for about three years. I gave them quite a chase for a bit."

"'Cause you're fast?" Roy guessed. Wally nodded.

"And I'm not the only one. My uncle and my cousin are probably in here somewhere too. Or, not my uncle. They said they keep adults somewhere else. You know, I kinda hope my cousin and my uncle got away, 'cause I heard they kill the adults or something. Hey, how've you been here so long and we're just now talking?" Wally didn't seem to shut up, but when he asked the question, he did finally fall silent.

"They keep us in isolated cells, stupid. And I try not to associate at mealtimes," Roy explained. He glared at Wally. "See, I don't really _like_ people."

"Oh. Well, thanks for helping me out anyway, man, I owe you! You really could have hurt Cam though, maybe you should tone it down a bit?" Wally suggested.

"Cam? You and your bully are on nickname terms?" Roy asked, raising an eyebrow. Suddenly the overhead lights that bathed everything in white turned red, and Roy felt the heat in his hands disappear. Wally stumbled and fell to the ground, probably startled at how suddenly everything went normal for him as well.

The intercoms crackled and a woman's voice said, coldly and clinically, "Warning all units, a metahuman has escaped detainment. Male, black hair, undetermined foreign descent. Slight and slippery. Thirteen. All metas have been temporarily destabilized in order to efficiently track down the detainee."

"Destabilized?" Roy asked.

"Our powers won't work as long as the lights are red," Wally spat. "This happens every time someone thinks they can get out. No one's ever that lucky."

"How long do the lights stay red?" Roy asked, hearing footsteps coming from the direction they'd been headed.

"Until the idiot who tried to run is caught," Wally explained. Then Roy saw the group of metas being led towards them from the yard.

"Back to the mess hall," a large guard decked in full body armor shouted. "The yard's off limits."

"Damn," Roy hissed under his breath.

"The lights affect the yard, too, dumbass. Can't fight your way out," Wally muttered darkly. He turned to walk back to the mess hall. "People have tried. And failed."

Roy conceded the idea to the smaller redhead, but only because he had been here for so long, and had probably seen the unfortunate outcomes of people like Roy acting out. Roy was eighteen. If he'd been three years older, he'd have been locked up with the adults. Or killed, if the rumors were true. The guards had told him, as he was admitted, that there weren't many people his age in the Center. He was lucky they'd found him so quick. He hadn't argued then, and he wouldn't argue now.

The Center has been enforced by President Luthor when metahumans began popping up as criminals. It was the first occurrence of supervillains anyone had ever seen, and everyone hoped that it would also bring about super _heroes_. But the more the police struggled, the more people began to fear and hate anyone with strange abilities, the less people seemed to want to help. And so President Luthor had the countries best scientists and engineers put to work to develop some defenses. And the Center, and it's patrolmen and guards, was built.

Then President Luthor was re-elected, for "single handedly" solving the metahuman issue. Everyone was so wrapped up in fear of metas, that no one noticed Luthor becoming the USA's first dictator. And when people began to notice, he'd already taken complete control. People were losing their children because they accidentally awoke their metagene, people were being abducted and experimented on to see if the metagene could be removed or replicated, and people were going on the run whenever they awoke their abilities.

Roy awoke his metagene in an inebriated haze as he crashed his car on the railing along a cliff and went careening into the bay. He blasted the door off its hinges to escape a watery grave, and realized that he couldn't go back to his legal guardian for another reason, on top of all his horrible screwups. Roy remembered his first few days on the run as being painful and horrid. Somehow he had survived the fall with no broken limbs, but the withdrawal symptoms of heroin… he'd nearly died. He's shocked that he _didn't_.

He's not entirely sure if he'd been with someone or not on the drive. He could almost remember another face, but not entirely. The unknown was eating at him, and sometimes at night he couldn't sleep because of the guilt. It was heavy, and it weighed him down, and he wondered if some kid's parents ever found out they died because they were drugged up on a windy road. But he had to keep going. He had to figure out a way to hide, because he'd rather have died that night than end up in the Center.

Here he was, though. Trapped in the Center only two months after he discovered his powers. He turned to Wally, walking beside him in the red lit hallway. "How long were you on the run?"

"A whole year," Wally explained. "Longest of anyone here that I've met."

Roy nodded thoughtfully. He opened his mouth to ask about his cousin, but then the red lights went out, and the intercom switched on. "Hi, this is the new detainee, Codename: Robin, I regret to inform you, 'all units', but I am no meta, I've shut off all power to the lights and restraints, and… well, I think you're all about to have a big security problem."

"What the fuck!?" The guard in the back of the room shouted. Roy felt heat fill his fists, and in the darkness they looked a bit like they were red hot coals. Wally started vibrating, little yellow bursts of lightning streaking off of him. A girl started to glow purple, and a boy's markings lit up a soft blue as water pipes creaked in the walls around them. The guard noticed all the metas gearing up to bust their ways out. "Shit!"

Roy was the first to act, shooting a beam of heat at the metal walls around them, slicing through the material easily enough. As utter chaos descended upon the Center, Roy could faintly hear the intercom's releasing a creepy laugh that almost seemed to echo through the sudden pandemonium.

"Jailbreak!"

* * *

" _Roy, at_ least _try to be polite to the president. He didn't have to come to this gala," Oliver Queen pleaded._

 _Roy scowled. "Like he even cares about reintegrating metas into society. Like anyone does! Come on, it's been ten years now. If anyone cared about metas, the Center wouldn't exist. I doubt_ you _care, Ollie!"_

 _Oliver frowned. "I care about metas, Roy."_

" _Oh, right, I forgot. Your girlfriend's hiding out somewhere because she can shatter bullet proof glass when she yells at you to wash your socks," Roy spat sarcastically. "I don't fit in with these people, Ollie. I grew up on a reservation. No one in that room even knows a thing about Native Americans, except the stereotypes they see in movies!"_

" _Well, how about Wayne's kid? He's going. He doesn't fit in with rich people anymore than you do," Oliver suggested. "Try getting to know him."_

" _He's like, six years old, Ollie. I'm sixteen," Roy snapped._

" _He's not six, Roy. Besides, Wayne actually does care about the less fortunate. He's got his fingers in a lot of pies, and that includes meta pies," Oliver explained. "Maybe he can help you understand why I want to do this for them."_

" _God, I hate this country. If I turn out to be a meta, just shoot me," Roy groaned. He didn't see the worried gaze Oliver sent him. "Whatever, I'll go to your dumb gala and play nice with Wayne. But I'm not going near Luthor. He hasn't done_ me _any favors."_


	2. Busting Out

_**Author's Note: This chapter contains mentions of abuse in regards to Wally's childhood.**_

The Meta Protection and Liberation League had a rather pathetic and boring acronym. MPLL. Robin called it the Maple, because that just sounded better than trying to use all those letters all the time. And it was cooler than "the League". It confused first time hearers, but hey, not like he talked to a lot of outsiders about the organization. And when he did, it was as Richard Grayson, and he had to pretend he didn't know what the Maple was, so no nicknames for him.

Robin himself was part of the sneaky, spy quadrant of the Maple called the Belfry. Or he would be. Technically, Bruce Wayne Codename: Batman, said he couldn't until he was eighteen. Pfft. Robin had been training since he was nine! He could handle this.

Or so he thought. Though, to be fair, he hadn't meant to get caught infiltrating a base. It wasn't his fault that they'd been questioning meta agent of Maple, Barry West-Allen Codename: Flash. Robin _liked_ Barry, he was like an uncle to him. Flash didn't blabber about League secrets, and he was working so hard to keep quiet under threat to his well being. So maybe he used his freaky good skills with tech to cause a scene and bust Flash out.

That in and of itself was probably why Batman never told him if one of their own got captured in the field. Unfortunately, Robin had gotten captured and was mistaken for a meta with technopathic powers. Ha, he wished! Nah, Robin didn't have a metagene. Batman had checked.

So now, here he was, in the Center itself. Ah, the fools. Had they known he was training to be a Maple agent, they probably would never have brought him here. But here he was! Watching pandemonium erupt in the night vision security cameras as the meta kids realized just what the lights being out meant for them. Batman would be so pissed off!

A woman burst through the door, her eyes bright with malice, and vines curling around her like snakes. She wasn't an inmate- too old. And besides, she was decked out in the same body armor as the other guards. Robin tensed.

"You're a meta," Robin said, confused.

"And you're done for!" The woman snarled, and vines shot out at him. Robin jumped into the air, landing on a vine now rooted in the wall like it was a tightrope.

"I didn't know Luthor was hiring metas," Robin quipped.

"I didn't know the League was hiring _children_ ," the woman snarled, punching him with her left fist.

Robin scowled and blocked her hit. "I am _not_ a child. Why are you working for a man who wants you imprisoned?"

"Our _President_ understands the uses hiring reformed metas can bring. For example, guarding this facility in case something like _you_ comes along!" The woman snarled, and as she kicked at Robin, he dodged out of the way, catching a glimpse of her nametag. _Isley_.

Pamela Isley. Not too much of a worrisome criminal history- breaking and entering, multiple counts. Vandalism, multiple counts. Manslaughter, one count. Prison therapist has confirmed guilty conscious and a strong wish to make up for her mistakes. Or just mistake, singular. She probably wasn't aiming to seriously harm him.

"Ouch, didn't know you could be so _poisonous_ , Isley!" Robin snarked as he aimed a punch at her gut. Ha! Poison ivy. What a corny nickname. He should totally use it. "Hey, why'd they let you out of jail so early? Heard you got twenty years for that stunt you pulled."

"Luthor gave me a chance to make amends," Pamela snapped, and her hand closed around Robin's wrist, giving her the advantage she needed to pin him to the ground with his arm twisted up between his shoulder blades. For a moment, she simply placed her weight on the small of his back with her knee, contemplating something. "He could help you see the Light, too, if you wish."

Wow. No thank you, creepy lady. Okay, he could get out of this pin. It'd hurt, but he could do it. "I think I'm good, Poison Ivy."

With a heavy grunt and a rapid twist, Robin pulled out of Pamela's grip and spun out of her reach. His arm howled in pain, his wrist likely sprained, and his shoulder probably dislocated. With his good arm, he threw a nearby wrench at Pamela, and she stumbled back. Then, Robin shut the door and hefted his weight against it. He heard an angry shriek, and the woman outside slammed her vines against the door, the metal jostling his injured arm. "Fuck."

After a moment, he heard Pamela calling for backup. Okay. Okay, he could do this. He just had to- had to relocate his shoulder. He heard Pamela run off down the hall, clearly frustrated that whatever call for reinforcements she must have made went unanswered. Okay. Okay, he was going to do this.

 _Ow!_ "Aurgh, _shit_!"

* * *

As ten other metas in this hallway were storming back out to the yard, Roy realized something. Just before Wally could jet off anywhere else, Roy grabbed his arm. "The yard isn't going to work."

"What?" Wally demanded, incredulously.

"The yard. The others are headed towards a pen, they'll never make it," Roy explained.

"But that's _outside_ ," Wally protested, and his whole body vibrated a little at the idea.

"With a fence. No exit. And a whole lot of guards," Another voice spoke up, calm and soft spoken. Roy turned to see the boy with the glowing tattoos had not run after the others towards the yard. "What is your plan, then?"

"When they first bring someone here, it's always by car. They walk us through a garage, remember?" Roy explained. "So we take a car."

"I'm fifteen, I can't drive. Can you drive, Kaldur? I don't think he can drive either," Wally babbled.

The stranger's lips quirked. "I'm sure your friend would not have suggested it if he could not drive, Wally."

"Right," Wally grinned sheepishly.

"The point is, if you've got family you wanna see, kid, I can get you out of here," Roy stated. Both Wally and the stranger, Kaldur, looked at him with wide eyes, like they had not considered being able to see their families.

"Fuck, yeah. Yeah, I wanna see Aunt I! She's probably worried sick," Wally frowned. "We kinda disappeared on her."

Kaldur looked at the wall distractedly. "I do wish I hadn't left Tula without a farewell. I wonder how she has fared."

"So who remembers the way to the garage?" Wally asked.

Neither Roy nor Kaldur answered him, both just beginning the walk through the twisting halls of the Center. Wally nodded, "Okay. Both of you, then."

He jogged to catch up, and was in stride with them before they could blink.

* * *

Wally West was born and raised in the perfect nuclear family. But his dad lost his job when he was five, and their situation tanked. Rudolph West got angry- after all it wasn't his fault he got fired -then got wasted and gambled away all his money, then lost his nice and comfortable home- so it had to be everyone else's.

First it was Mary's, for being a terrible wife. And for awhile, Mary took the verbal thrashings, because she was sure she deserved it. After all, her mother had told her she would regret marrying this man, and here she was, regretting it after scorning the woman who warned her. But finally, one thanksgiving, Mary West had had enough of the man, and she left him with only a note left on the refrigerator to explain her absence.

So Rudolph blamed the only person left in the house. And for Wally, it wasn't just harsh words and angry shouts. Sometimes he'd go to bed bruised and scratched up. A few times, he'd gone to the hospital with a story that he'd fallen off his bike, or down the stairs, or out of a tree. It isn't something he liked to think about.

Then Iris came over for the next thanksgiving, wanting to get closer to her brother after the unfortunate circumstances of the previous year- after all, Mary _had_ left the note in place of a turkey. Wally immediately loved his aunt. Iris was everything his father wasn't, and it showed in the way she brushed his hair back ever so gently, the way she respectfully bent down to his level to meet his gaze, the way she didn't press him to look her in the eye if he didn't want.

It was a few years before Iris discovered Wally's abuse. She was introducing Rudolph and Wally to her husband and son when Barry -god, Wally already loved Barry, he was so damn _nice_ \- pulled her aside and began whispering to her urgently. Wally was too busy taking care of his toddling cousin to pay attention. Bart was five years younger than Wally, and the older boy felt a bit protective.

Within a matter of very frightening, very worrisome weeks, Wally was living with his Aunt Iris and Uncle Barry, as their kid. Their legal, actual kid. Kind of.

It was a lightning storm that did what it did to the West-Allen boys. Barry was taking care of them while Iris was out at work, but he needed to do things in his lab. Unfortunately, lightning struck while Barry was pulling the boys apart during a surprisingly physical altercation, and all three of them wound up doused in chemicals. Wally was twelve when the storm struck. Bart was still barely six.

Wally was thirteen when the Center finally caught them. He didn't see if Barry and Bart got away, but he hoped to whatever higher power that whatever happened to them, Iris could keep on going.

Wally had been in the Center for almost three years. Soon he'd be sixteen. He hated the Center so much, but he kept track of the days as well as anyone could. He celebrated every holiday with a single hope: that Iris could be happy that day.

He couldn't believe his ears when Roy said he'd help him get to her. He was overjoyed. He was practically vibrating with excitement as Roy blasted his way through the garage doors, just in time before the red lights managed to flicker back on.

The intercoms buzzed and a man's voice came over the mic. "Power restored to lights and restraints, all units apprehend detainees immediately."

"Shit, get to a car," Roy said, quickly, making a break for the nearest vehicle.

"Are we gonna make it!?" Wally panicked, breaking into a severely slow (normal, he supposed, god he can't believe he used to live like this) run at Kaldur's side.

"Save your breath," Kaldur huffed.

The intercom buzzed once again, and the three boys heard the man announce, "All available personnel to the garage immediately, League agent attempting an escape!"

"What the fuck is a League agent?" Roy demanded, head whipping to the garage's only entrance from the facility. Just as he asked the question, a thirteen year old boy skidded to a stop at the doorway, locking eyes on them immediately. His skin was bronze brown, his hair dark and slightly wavy, and his eyes a startling sapphire shade of blue. His arm was tied up in a makeshift sling from what looked like medbay sheets.

Then the kid smirked, and ran at them. "Gimme a lift!"

"Depends on where you're headed," Roy said, sliding his sleeve over his fist and preparing to smash open the window. Kaldur pulled Wally away from the window as Roy slammed his fist into the glass.

"Literally anywhere that isn't here," the kid said.

"Star, then," Roy decided, reaching into the car and unlocking the door. "Get in."

The kid immediately slid into the front passenger seat, leaving Kaldur and Wally to climb into the middle seats from the front. Roy frowned. "We still need to start the car."

"I gotcha!" The kid exclaimed, and he shoved the passenger side door open before running off. The lights overhead flickered a little from red to white before remaining red.

"I am anxious to return to the outside world," Kaldur announced. Roy grunted, as he bent down, trying to hotwire the car even while lacking proper tools.

"I miss being normal," Wally sighed, slouching in his seat.

Then the kid, their new ally, emerged from an office room in the corner with four key lanyards and what looked like some kind of utility belt. He ran back over and slid into his seat. "Try one of these."

Roy grumbled, but did as the boy instructed. On the third key, the car started up with a low rumble. Wally felt relief flood him as Roy began to peel out of the garage. And just at that moment, guards decked in full body armor entered the garage from the Center.

Wally watched through the rear windshield as a guard ran into the office room. He looked forward, only to see the garage door closing slowly. "They're trying to pin us in!"

"Step on it, step on it!" The kid in the front shouted, and Roy grinned.

"Will do, Squirt," Roy said, and slammed his foot on the accelerator.

The kid smirked. "The name's Robin, not Squirt."


	3. Sheltered

_**Author's Note:**_ _ **This chapter took way too long to get out, whoops! I had a lot of trouble with the last scene, and I'm still not sure it's really all that great, but I got frustrated with it, so here you go.**_

The sunset over the desert was red, bathing the world in scarlet and pink and purple, the opposite side of the sky almost a dark indigo. The mountains in the distance looked dry and rocky, and the salt flats just on the opposite side of the road looked almost purple. The world had never seemed more beautiful to Kaldur than it did right then, Wally stretching his legs in the way only he could, and Roy and Robin consulting a map. The gritty bathroom at the rest stop they'd pulled over in had two stalls only, and smelled putrid. Kaldur had missed being on the outside.

He could feel the water, a firm presence just inches aside from his mind, deep below the ground and extending up into that gross, gritty bathroom. It felt so odd, that small source of water, compared to all the pipes he'd felt in the Center.

"I'm not getting a signal. Damn! Shoulda gotten the long range comms!" Robin scoffed.

"Comms to what? You still haven't told us who the hell you are," Roy commented.

"Come on, you've never heard of Maple?" Robin asked, sounding incredulous. Kaldur walked over to the car to join them.

"I'm afraid not," Kaldur confessed.

"Maple! You know, the Meta Protection and Liberation League?" Robin explained. "They exist to make a better and freer America for metahumans everywhere. A League comprised half of metas, half of sympathizers."

"What, meta sympathizers? No such thing," Roy snorted. "Probably fetishizers, but not sympathizers."

"Ew, gross! I'm thirteen, man!" Robin recoiled.

"And you hacked into a government building," Roy pointed out. "I'm sure you've seen the dark side of the internet."

"If your family was all meta, and someone told you people were getting off on their abilities, you'd be grossed out too," Robin countered.

"My family's dead," Roy deadpanned.

"Welcome to the club," Robin shrugged. He looked up at Kaldur. "Anyway, Maple is kinda training me to start doing recon missions. I wasn't supposed to be at the Center, they mistook me for some sort of technopath."

"In all fairness, I might have as well, had you not been the one to disable the lights, and thus had the skill to do so without an enhancing metagene," Kaldur confessed. He wasn't going to even touch on the orphan comments.

"No metagene in this human. You guys are humanity 2.0, but I'm still just the original version," Robin grinned cheekily.

"God! I'm hungry!" Wally moaned, skidding to a stop a few feet away from them. "How're we gonna get food?"

"Oh shit! Your metabolism's crazy fast!" Robin exclaimed, as if he just remembered something. He slapped his hand to his forehead and groaned.

"Uh, yeah," Wally said, like it was obvious. Kaldur didn't think it was such a clear leap to make, as he'd only just realized the logic behind such a thought.

"We can't afford to feed you if we don't figure out a way to get money fast," Robin pointed out. "I have Batman's emergency card, but I'd rather just use it for emergencies."

"Who's Batman?" Wally asked.

"Just someone. Maple agent," Robin said dismissively, turning back to the map. Robin tapped his chin. "Soup kitchens will help get you basic meals, but you're gonna have to cut down on the speed a lot, okay?"

"Cut down on-!? My brain literally processes the world faster than yours, that's going to be torture for me!" Wally exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air.

"So is dying of starvation," Robin said flatly. "If I can contact Flash, then he can help us figure something out, but we need to ditch this car before we even think about finding Maple agents."

"We cannot abandon the vehicle here, we are still miles out from any town," Kaldur commented.

"Dammit. Roy, how fast can you get us to the nearest town?" Robin asked.

"It depends on how legal you wanna be," Roy shrugged. Robin mirrored his stance, looking every bit the devil-may-care rebel he was proving to be. Kaldur had a feeling he wouldn't like the next thing he said.

"I don't care about legal, we need fast."

* * *

 _Oliver Queen paced impatiently in the hallway, his fingers fiddling with the blonde ends of his goatee. He was waiting for Bruce to come back with the results of the tests, having just lost the freedom of a public relationship with Dinah thanks to her sudden development of powers. Now she was confined to the Cave, and he could only see her once in a blue moon._

 _Bruce Wayne exited the lab, a clipboard in hand and another League member at his heels. Oliver stopped pacing. "Well?"_

" _One Roy Harper has a metagene, but it's inactive," Bruce informed._

" _Who's the kid, and why'd you want his specs?" Barry Allen asked, raising an eyebrow._

" _He's my ward. He's been in my care three years. Sixteen years old now," Oliver explained. Barry looked surprised, but Bruce was nonplussed. "I wanted to know if I had to worry about getting him hidden from the feds at any point. After Canary, I just…"_

" _Wanted to be sure," Bruce finished. "I feel the same about Robin. I had him checked as soon as I filed for guardianship."_

 _Barry sighed. "God, I wish I could just have gotten my kids checked whenever I wanted. The procedure is expensive, but if I'd only_ known _, I never would have let them hang around my lab."_

" _Bart's fine, though," Oliver said. "He's here at the Cave, with you."_

" _Codenames, Arrow," Bruce warned._

" _Geez, sorry._ Impulse _is fine."_

" _Impulse might be here, but I've got a nephew. He could be anywhere," Barry sighed._

" _If you don't want your ward to activate his metagene, I recommend keeping an eye on him," Bruce said. "Keep letting him run wild, and he'll activate them faster than you can blink."_

" _How did you kn-"_

" _I know everything. I'm Batman."_

 _Oliver's irritation flared at the stoic expression on Bruce Wayne face. "I know how to take care of my own kid, I don't need your advice."_

 _Bruce grunted, sounding unaffected by Oliver's words. "I'll see you at the next gala, Arrow."_

* * *

"If there's a Center, why are we here?" Conner asked for the thirteenth time since he'd been allowed a regular visitor in his... room.

Megan smiled, pretty and soft. "I'm here to keep you company!"

"Why am _I_ here?" Conner pressed.

"This is your home," Megan said, her smile fading a bit. She glanced at the metal door. She never said much more than what she'd just told him, conversation kept far away from such topics.

"Am I a prisoner?" Conner asked.

Megan laughed, but the mirth in her voice was missing from her eyes. "You can't be a prisoner in your own home."

Conner opened his mouth, but hesitated. He had never asked her this before, but the past weeks… the past weeks that he'd known the ginger haired girl, her mannerisms had all been nervous, scared. Finally, he spat it out. "Are you a prisoner?"

Megan blinked, her smile freezing on her face. She glanced sideways at the door, then lifted her teacup to her face. For a moment, there was silence, and Conner figured he wouldn't receive an answer. Then, quieter than anything else said at all, from behind her teacup, Megan whispered, "Yes."

Conner stared hard at her as she lowered her teacup to the table. It was the first time he'd ever really felt brave enough to press onwards. Finally, he said, "Why are you really here?"

"I'm supposed to keep you calm," Megan murmured, her eyes darting to each corner of the room that she could see without turning her head. More new information. "So you'll stop hurting the doctors when they come to see you."

"They keep coming at me with needles. They don't treat me like a person. I don't like them," Conner stated, keeping his voice quiet like hers.

"Okay," Megan said.

"Okay?" Conner asked.

"Okay. I'm not the one who wants you to see the doctors. I'm just here to be your friend," Megan explained.

"But you're a telepath. They want you to just make me be calm," Conner guessed.

"Yes. They are very unhappy with my preferred methods," Megan winced, her fingers tugging at her cardigan sleeves to hide something.

"Are they hurting you?" Conner asked.

Megan glanced sideways at the metal door. Then nodded minutely. "It's better here than at the Center."

"Were you at the Center before?" Conner asked.

"I'm sorry for bringing it up. I'm not supposed to talk about the Center anymore. The doctors say it will only make you angry," Megan backtracked. "I'm not supposed to make you angry."

The metal of Conner's chair creaked under his tightening grip. Megan glanced at the door in fear. Conner hated being kept in the dark. "They're keeping things from me."

"Please stay calm," Megan whispered, her hands clasping her own wrists.

Conner took a deep breath through his nose and released it with a soft sigh. He didn't want Megan getting in trouble because he couldn't keep his temper in check. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright," Megan said, wringing her fingers with her right hand. The lights turned red, and Conner felt his enhanced strength leaving him. Megan gasped a bit in surprise. Conner was startled, too. He didn't think that the session had been so close to ending.

The door slid open, and Megan squeaked, grabbing her teacup to keep her hands busy, and curling around it, trying to make herself look small and nonthreatening. Like she could ever look threatening, as dainty and soft as she looked.

Luthor entered the room, Mercy at his side with a clipboard and a stern expression. He entered the room with a wide, congenial smile, and the doors shut behind him. "Ah, Conner, how are you?"

"I'm fine, Father," Conner said dully, folding his arms and leaning back in his seat. He felt aggravated just watching the man walk towards him. Luthor and Mercy paid Megan no mind as they came to a halt just beside Conner's chair. Luthor raised one eyebrow as he noticed the divots Conner had made in the metal only moments before.

"Are you sure you weren't getting frustrated?" Luthor asked, tapping one finger against the warped metal. Conner stiffened.

"Maybe I wouldn't get 'frustrated' if I could _leave_ ," Conner snapped scathingly. Luthor exhaled in amusement, already shaking his head.

Then, Luthor turned his attention to Megan, the smile dropping off his face, and Conner felt a spike of fear in his chest. "And you, mind reader. Haven't I told you what would happen if you didn't cooperate by now?"

Megan bit her lip. "Sorry, Sir."

"Mercy, take her back to her room. I believe that's enough for the day," Luthor suggested. Mercy wordlessly affixed an inhibitor collar around Megan's neck.

Conner watched as Mercy began to lead Megan out of the room, but then Luthor began to speak again. "Well, Conner, my boy, the doctors will be trying to perform their tests again tomorrow. I should hope you're feeling a bit more… cooperative?"

"Will Megan visit me while they're here?" Conner asked.

"Of course!" Luthor said, acting as if he were a magnanimous man who wasn't doing this just to try and control Conner.

Conner didn't trust Luthor, or the doctors, or Mercy. But he trusted Megan. She had been visiting for weeks, and still. Still she refused to use her power negatively against him.

"Alright."


	4. This is a Battle

_**Author's Note:**_ _ **So someone asked if the martians and the kryptonians are also metas in my au- yes, yes they are. Which means I have to limit their powers a bit, so Megan is just telepathic and telekinetic, while Conner is just super strong. Megan will be able to telepathically block people from noticing her, though, which alludes to her in-show invisibility. Conner is still a clone, though.**_

The boys had ditched the car on the side of the road behind some bushes before running into town. Robin brought the boys to the nearest bank with outdoor ATMs, and used the little black credit card to cash in some money. He didn't say how much, but Roy noticed the amount of bills the kid extracted out of the machine. Then Robin had given Kaldur eighty bucks and told him to buy cheap snacks for them all at the twenty four hour corner store just down the street, and he dragged the others over to the thrift store, or more specifically, their donation bin in the back.

"What're we doing here?" Wally asked.

"You guys look like hospital escapees," Robin snorted, eyeing their plain white garments. He himself was dressed in all black, with what looked like armored padding over his vital areas. "Grab something that fits and we'll go shopping when we reach Star."

"This is stealing," Wally mumbled.

"You do what you have to," Roy said, pushing a red hoodie with a yellow lightning pattern all over it into Wally's hands. The younger teen grimaced, but he nodded, and began digging through the bin for a shirt in his size. Robin pulled out something neon green with a monster clown painted on the back, grimacing as he put it on. It was a denim jacket, the clown on the back looking like some sort of coat-of-arms.

"What's the problem?" Roy asked.

"Nothing. Just not a big fan of clowns, is all," Robin shrugged.

Roy shrugged. "They're creepy. Just how it is."

"I guess so. I'm going inside, maybe I'll find some bags or something," the kid said, turning his back on the pair of redheads and going to study the back door of the little shop. Roy pursed his lips, but continued digging through the donation bin for a good pair of jeans.

"Should we get stuff for Kaldur?" Wally asked.

"Yeah, he'll need it," Roy nodded, having momentarily forgotten about their companion who had gone to buy food. After a little bit of noise, the door to the thrift store swung open.

"Whoa," Wally gaped. "What'd you do?"

"It's not hard to pick locks," Robin snorted. "Camera footage is on loop, anyone who checks in the morning won't notice anything. The alarms are off- I'll turn them back on when we're done."

"It _is_ hard to pick locks," Wally pouted.

Robin waltzed into the store, ignoring the speedster. Roy glanced at Wally, then at Robin.

"Wally, you go with him," Roy said.

"What, why?" Wally asked, eyed wide. "I've never been in a store while it's closed! That's- that's illegal!"

"So is your presence outside a facility like the Center, dude," Robin commented. "So is my career. Lots of things are illegal, when they shouldn't be."

"But this _should be_!" Wally hissed. "You're breaking and entering!"

"Necessity," Robin argued. "Though the Boss would totally ground me for this, so there's that."

"What, is the Boss you're _dad_?" Roy snorted.

"Orphan," Robin jabbed a finger at Roy, then at himself. "Orphan. Could I be any clearer?"

"Guardian, then," Roy huffed, turning away from the boys as Robin dragged a quietly protesting Wally into the store. Roy looked around, being sure he was out of sight from any of the surrounding streets or windows, then began to strip out of the white pants the Center had given him. Now they were covered in dirt and dust from the bathroom breaks they'd taken on the road through the desert. The artificial oasis built around this town had stained the slippers with mud, and Roy was glad he didn't have to go after the kids to get new shoes. He'd just found a pair of dusty worker's boots in his size at the bottom of the donation bin. Changing the white shirt for a black t-shirt that proclaimed him a proud patriot of America (right, like any meta teenager was these days), he slipped on a hoodie and examined his reflection in the window.

He looked… normal.

He'd never been the freckle kind of redhead. Wally clearly was, covered in spots from the tips of his fingers to the ends of his ears and all the way down to his toes. But Roy was clear skinned, except for the scars in his elbows from badly inserted needles… that was behind him though. He'd experienced horrible withdrawal symptoms in the months between his meta awakening and his capture, but he was done with that part of his life. He wouldn't do that stuff again. But all that aside, Roy looked like a normal teenager again.

He glanced at his hands, feeling the roiling heat in his fingertips. If he focused, his hands got hotter, and started to glow. He placed his palm on a nearby tree, red hot. It smelled like a campfire for a moment, then he took his hand away like it had shocked him. A black handprint remained in the bark, but nothing caught aflame. Roy grimaced and went about hiding the shape of the burn, burning away more bark, filling the air with more campfire smell.

"Hey!" Roy whirled around to see Robin, glaring at him, an empty duffel bag now over his shoulder as he closed the door. Wally stood behind him, freckles stark against a pale face as he stared wide eyed at Roy burning hands. He'd seen them before, but he hadn't seen them in use. He also hadn't seen Roy fire off actual beams of pure, painful heat. Roy remembered the fireproof suits the order lies wore the second time they came after him. No one really appreciated his powers. Why would they?

"What?" Roy snarled at Robin.

"Leave no trace," Robin snapped. "Sooner or later, the feds are going to find us. But if you keep charring every tree you come across, that 'sooner or later' is just going to be 'sooner', and we won't be ready for them. Got it?"

"Whatever," Roy scoffed. He didn't know why he felt so angry. He was always angry, but he didn't know why the boy's logic made him feel the rage that was suddenly crashing through the pit of his stomach.

"I don't want the feds to find us," Wally said, voice small. He was swamped in the red and yellow hoodie, a plain white shirt underneath, and his pants baggy. His shoes were regular jogging sneakers, but the color was nearly electric yellow. He looked like a kid. A kid on the run from the government, telling everybody he was a dangerous criminal with dangerous powers. The rage built up in his throat now, his hand so hot he was almost burning _himself_.

"Well, if we can get to Maple, we'll be safe when they do," Robin said.

"Oh, really? What's so great about them? How good are they at their job if the Center even _fucking exists_?" Roy snarled. Robin glared at him, eyes bright and blue and childish in their outrage. He couldn't be older than twelve or something.

"The League was formed as a counter attack, not as a preemptive attack. Battles are not won rapidly, and this _is_ a battle, _Harper_.," Robin sneered.

Roy blinked, so startled at such familiar words, that his rage drained away immediately. Where had he heard that before?

* * *

" _So you're Roy Harper?" The eleven year old boy asked. He was small, for his age, and the only reason Roy knew he was eleven, rather than nine, was because this was Richard Grayson, ward of Bruce Wayne. He was in all the tabloids, lauded as the perfect Cinderella story- though they skipped over the trauma, the abuse, and several other facts about the boy's tragic circumstances. Now he was just the perfect little Gotham heir, the ward and maybe son of Gotham's reigning prince._

" _And you're Richard," Roy gruntex, not aiming to befriend a child._

" _Please, my friends call me Dick," Richard said, tilting his flute of sparkling apple cider the same way the adult snobs around them did with their champagne. A gesture that Roy had taken to understand "please thank me for gifting you with my presence". God, they were grooming him to be just like them._

" _Fascinating, Richard," Roy said, purposefully using the longer name. Richard pursed his lips, but diplomatically moved on from the topic._

" _So you're here with Mr. Queen, then? Where's Miss Dinah?" Richard asked._

 _Roy didn't like the way Richard sounded as if he were on personal terms with the woman. Dinah was a better mother figure to Roy than anyone had ever been. The only one, really. And he didn't much like the idea that this prissy child got to call her by her first name and ask after her when he didn't see her. "She's a meta. Couldn't afford to hang out in the open."_

 _Richard didn't look surprised, and Roy gritted his teeth and clenched his jaw. He did, however, look sad. "It's unfortunate that no matter how much we petition for metahuman outreach, we keep getting ignored. I'm glad Mr. Queen is taking steps to fix such an issue."_

" _Boys," an oily voice interrupted before Roy could reply that it was all useless. President Luthor himself was making his way to them. "I see the wards of two of my biggest competitors are here. And bonding, perhaps?"_

" _Mayhaps," Richard said, diplomatic, but cold. Everything about him seemed to have frozen solid the moment Luthor approached them. "Are you running Lexcorp, again, Mr. President? I was under the impression Miss Luthor was the current CEO."_

 _Roy didn't know that. He felt a bit slighted that a child knew more than he about business, while they were supposedly equal in all but age. Luthor smiled. "And what would a child know of Lexcorp's business?"_

" _I know your stock prices are low, while WE is rising everyday," Richard informed, voice even colder than before._

" _So you listen in on Wayne's conversations, do you?" Luthor asked. Condescension dripped from his words like honey- sweet and thick._

" _Of course not, Mr. President. I attend the board meetings. Bruce expects that of all his shareholders, why shouldn't he expect it of his heir?" Richard smiled, still cold, and rather predatory._

" _I see. I hadn't thought that Wayne had made you heir to his company," Luthor mused. "I didn't think he could be so remiss in judgement."_

 _Even Roy had to try not to glare at that statement. Luthor was an idiot if he thought Wayne couldn't trust a smart kid like Richard to one day take over his company. It was better than handing it over to some bimbo sister, like Luthor did. Well, okay, he couldn't exactly call Lena Luthor a bimbo. He didn't know her, and he'd heard from Ollie that she actually did seem to care about metas. Though she never worked against her brother, she was supposedly into the idea of reforming meta criminals and integrating them back into civilian life. Roy honestly doubt anyone_ really _cared, though._

" _Well, Mr. President, I think if Mr. Wayne trusts Richard, then he'll be training him as well. Perhaps one day, under Richard's leadership, we'll see WE achieve things we can only dream of today," Roy said, trying not to sound biting or cruel as he spoke. Luthor frowned._

" _We shall see. I'd certainly really like to see that," he responded, sounding the complete opposite of enthused. Then he walked away, swirling his glass of champagne and lifting it to his lips._

" _God, what an ass," Roy muttered. Richard chuckled._

" _That's true enough. Thank you for defending me," Richard smiled, genuine and soft, not fake like before._

" _You're a kid," Roy snorted. "No way I'm letting anyone get away with bullying a kid. Not even the president."_

" _Well, you did a good job. Maybe I'll convince Bruce to donate something extra to Mr. Queen's cause," Richard said._

" _I- Look, I don't need that. It won't help metas, and it won't help me. Just don't let people walk over you like that, that'd all the thanks I need," Roy said._

" _Alright. But what do you mean it won't help metas? This whole gala is to help metas by getting money," Richard said, brows furrowed and eyes analytical._

" _It just won't. Nothing will ever help metas. It's a lost cause and you guys shouldn't waste money trying to solve an unsolvable problem," Roy scoffed. "Try solving one that can be solved, instead."_

" _But I don't think the meta situation is as hopeless as you think," Richard debated. "Battles are not won rapidly, Mr. Harper, and this_ is _a battle."_

* * *

Artemis frowned as her vision zoomed in like a camera phone or something, and suddenly she could see the expression on the face of the child about to jump. She was surrounded by people who were gasping and pointing up, but she knew. That was a meta kid.

Artemis had been six when her father forcibly activated her and her sisters metagene. Her sister ran away that night, her metagene giving her invisibility. She'd been packing when Artemis found her.

"Where are you going to go?" Artemis had asked, like a fool.

"I'm going to disappear," Jade had responded as she turned invisible, "like the Cheshire cat."

Artemis, meanwhile had gotten telescopic vision. Something useless as any kind of up close assassin, but useful as a sniper. Well, maybe she didn't want to sit of rooftops and shoot bullets into skulls. But maybe she also didn't want to go to the Center for something as dumb as her eyes sometimes seeing tiny things as normal sized things.

So maybe Artemis also ran away. Maybe Artemis had been on the run for a long time, and maybe she had befriended a girl named Zatanna who unlocked her ability to teleport shortly after she watched the feds kill her metahuman dad. Maybe Artemis had also befriended a girl named Barbara, who had no metagene, but refused to let anyone suffer injustice the way metas did. Maybe the three of them called themselves the Birds of Prey, after a sleazy guy called them birds- British slang for girls, apparently- and tried to make a pass at them, leading to that sleaze ball getting his ass handed to him. Maybe the three of them caught the attention of the whispered of Meta Protection and Liberation League, known as the League for short. Maybe now the three of them sent the young metas they saved to the League for protection. Maybe "maybe" was definitely.

Now, Artemis was a hero of sorts, who looked up at this poor meta boy who was so desperate for freedom that he was about to jump off a sixteen story building for it, and felt her heart break. She had _been there_. She had almost taken the leap, but she didn't, and now look at her. "Zee, take me up there."

"Me too," Barbara decided.

"Babs?" Artemis asked.

"We're in this together," Barbara proclaimed. "Come on, girls. Let's help."

Zatanna nodded, grabbing both their hands. People gasped and shrieked as Zatanna disappeared, taking the other girls with her. Then, they reappeared with a light popping sound on the rooftop. The meta boy stumbled, but Barbara caught his arms before he fell.

"What're you doing up here? Why did you just let me fall?" The boy demanded, his voice wavering and uncertain.

"You fall, and it's over. Everything, all of it," Artemis said, helping Barbara to pull him away from the edge.

"Maybe I _want that_ ," he said, his voice breaking on the words.

"You don't," Zatanna spoke up. "Or you'd have already jumped."

"You don't know that!" the boy exclaimed. "You don't know anything! I'm a freak now! There's nothing more for me here!"

"You aren't a freak," Artemis snapped. "And it's wrong that the world is telling you that."

The kid was so _young_ , so small. He had big, childish eyes. He was probably barely eight. Barbara pulled him close, and for a moment Artemis marveled at how similar they looked. Barbara sighed, and asked, "Where's your mom, kiddo?"

This was the hard part. Either the parents abandoned their kid, or they died, or they didn't even know and the kid didn't _want_ them to know. Artemis was glad they'd only stumbled on a couple of meta kids, because each one was heartbreaking.

"Crashed," the kid whimpered, burying his face in Barbara stomach.

"What's your name?" Artemis asked as gently as she could.

"Garfield," he mumbled.

"Okay, Garfield," Artemis said. "Can we bring you down to the ground now? I promise we know a safe place where you can live, play, learn."

It was silent for a long time. Then Garfield nodded, and he wrapped his arms around Barbara middle. Zatanna and Barbara both sighed in relief.

"Okay, Arty, Babs, _Gar_ , get ready. I'm teleport in us all to the Cave," Zatanna informed. "Too many cops down below to make a clean getaway otherwise."

"Gar," Artemis said, piggybacking off of Zatanna new nickname for the boy, "this is going to be the weirdest thing you've ever felt. I promise it's not bad, okay?"

"Weirder than shapeshifting?" Garfield asked. Okay, so Artemis would need to ask about that.

"Maybe," Artemis shrugged. The she grabbed Zatanna hand, and Barbara grabbed the other.

"Probably," Barbara commented.

"Totally," Zatanna grinned.

And again, they disappeared.


End file.
